


Dawnstone and Obsidian

by Anarchy-Schmanarchy (Murder_Schmurder)



Series: Soulmate AUs are pog [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hybrid AU, M/M, Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Not putting this in the character tags lol, Platonic Soulmates, Soulmate AU, mentions of quackity/schlatt, not actually shipping, soulmate, the rest of the cast are briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murder_Schmurder/pseuds/Anarchy-Schmanarchy
Summary: It was too fucking much. Too much, too much, and why had he even thrown his lot in with Schlatt? He’d stuck with him, sure, but both of them had known that wasn’t gonna to last - not when Schlatt’s honey-blond eyes and brown hair stood in such stark contrast to Quackity’s black hair and bright pink eyes.Fuckin - bright pink. Still hadn’t found his goddamn soulmate. Maybe if he did, this would all be simpler.-------------Soulmate AU where your eyecolor is the same as your soulmate's haircolor. Set when Quackity joins Pogtopia.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Alexis | Quackity/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Soulmate AUs are pog [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126109
Comments: 6
Kudos: 480





	Dawnstone and Obsidian

The festival was - too much, too loud, too terrible. Quackity hated to admit it, hated to admit that they’d fucked up, but - they’d fucked up. 

Schlatt had gone off the fucking deep end, and he’d just stood there and watched. 

Quackity had just stood there and watched as he trapped a fucking kid and then forced Techno, of all fucking people, to kill him. 

They really should have expected Techno to turn on them, after that. It’s what Quackity would have done, if he’d been incredibly powerful and just got bullied into killing a child. 

It was too fucking much. Too much, too much, and why had he even thrown his lot in with Schlatt? They'd hooked up, sure, but both of them had known that wasn’t going to last - not when Schlatt’s honey-blond eyes and brown hair stood in such stark contrast to Quackity’s black hair and bright pink eyes.

Fuckin - bright pink. Still hadn’t found his goddamn soulmate. Maybe if he did, this would all be simpler. He didn't understand how he'd managed to miss someone with _bright pink hair_ , but that was just his curse, apparently.  


And all this - all this, from Schlatt’s dismissive laugh and sharp words and the lingering burn of the fireworks and how much he wished for things to just fucking make sense - was why he was heading towards the rebel base. To Pogtopia.

It really was too fucking obvious. He didn’t know how these chucklefucks had kept hidden this long - then again, if Techno was on their side, they really didn’t need to. 

Quackity had fought Techno before. In championships, sure, competitions where death wasn’t permanent and the worst you’d get was a headache after being brutally eviscerated. 

That just meant the bastard wasn’t holding back. He was ruthless and frankly terrifying and the few one-on-one interactions they’d had were no better - ending with Quackity covering in a corner while Techno threatened him in that terrifying monotone of his. 

Always armed. Always ready. Always in that gleaming armor and the skull mask. Quackity didn’t think he’d ever seen him without either. In fairness, he had never disarmed around him, either. Too dangerous. Too proud. Too many battles, all the time, never stopping, never breathing.

He’d left that life behind though. Got out of the circus of battle and blood, found himself a home here. And so had Techno, apparently. 

Maybe if they were on the same side, he’d stop trying to fucking murder Quackity at the first opportunity. Probably not, but a man could hope. 

He took a deep breath and called out for them. It didn’t take long before Tommy showed up from the underbrush, looking scared and wary but with more steel in his gaze than Quackity had seen in a long, long time. 

After arguing with Tommy for what felt like hours but was more like twenty minutes he sat down on the edge of the ravine hidden away in the hills. This was at least more impressive than just a hole in the ground, as he’d thought at first. The torchlights cast flickering shadows, and he could hear the rest of the resistance talking further down, their voices echoing up to him.

He’d done it. He’d left that fucker behind. Despite everything, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling a small flicker of hope. He didn’t know what they were planning, exactly, except that Wilbur hadn’t quite given up on his plans to blow the damn city sky-high. 

Part of him cried out at the thought. Part of him cheered. Fuck that place. It had taken enough, without giving anything back. And maybe in the smoking crater, Quackity could gain something like power. Something like respect.

As long as they got rid of Schlatt, he’d be happy. That was all he wanted.

“What’s he doing here?” The all-too familiar rumble of Techno’s voice made him freeze. He didn’t move, but his whole body tensed, ready to run, ready to fight. His wings rustled quietly, out of their customary bindings. Tommy had insisted.

It was nice to be out of them, for a bit. Schlatt was hybrid, too, but he was the one who’d suggested - very firmly - that Quackity kept them hidden.  _ Can’t have my little birdie flying away, now can we? _

He was distracted from his thoughts as Wilbur spoke up.

“Oh? He defected. We’re letting him stay, for now. Don’t tell him anything.” Wilbur’s voice cut through the tension, suspicious but firm. Quackity winced. Yeah, Wilbur had definitely gotten more paranoid than last time they spoke.

“Yeah yeah,” Techno dismissed, and Quackity could hear WIlbur huff before stalking away. Techno didn’t step away, at first - until Quackity could hear the heavy footsteps coming closer.

“Getting killed changed your mind, huh?” Techno quipped, and the quick flaming rage filled Quackity in an instant, covering the fear, making his wings rustle and puff in a way that was meant to be intimidating but he knew mostly looked ridiculous.

  
“Fuck off,” he spat, turning slightly so he could keep an eye on Techno. Or Techno’s legs, rather. The fucker was tall, and for once, not wearing his armor. Or much armor - Quackity caught the glitter of netherite in his cloak as he tugged it off himself. A second later there was a thump as Techno sat down beside him, and a heavy weight settled across his shoulders. 

Quackity spluttered. 

“What the fuck!” he said, turning to glare at Techno for throwing the cloak over his shoulders, no matter how warm it was.

Techno replied something about him looking like he was going to fall over any second, but Quackity wasn’t listening. He was instead staring at Techno’s head.

Specifically his hair. His very, very pink hair, barely above shoulder-length, several little braids adorned with jewelry shining through it like the glimmering specks of gold Quackity had started seeing in his own eyes, lately.

There was no way around it. And when he met Techno’s eyes, black as coal, black like netherdust, black like his own hair, he knew for certain.

They were soulmates.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he repeated, scrambling to the side - and immediately plunging over the side of the ravine, crashing into the stone floor below with a loud shriek before his wings could fold out enough to do more than slow his fall.

“I knew we shoulda kept the railings,” came a distant hum, and Quackity was on his feet and shouting before he could think.

Fifteen minutes later, the entire revolution knew three things:

A: Techno and Quackity were soulmates.

B: Neither of them had realized earlier, because both of them hadn’t seen the other without armor. Techno had only recently begun growing his hair out, referring to “the rings” in a sort of tone that immediately made Quackity change the topic.

C: Quackity could reach volumes loud enough to crack glass, and this was only mellowed out by the rumbling laughs of Techno’s own voice.

In the end, they found themselves right back where they started - sitting on the edge of the ravine, legs dangling over the edge as the chatter of the others echoed up from above. 

Quackity’s mind was still spinning. So much shared history suddenly made sense, and he’d learned things about Techno he’d never imagined.

(The fighting rings made a terrifying amount of sense, now, and Quackity couldn’t find it in himself to be pissed at how long it had taken them to figure it out. There was too much else to be pissed at.)

(He was going to burn that colosseum to the fucking ground.)

There was so much more, too, glimpses of someone awkward and cautious behind the terrifying, determined facade.

Quackity wanted to learn more about that Techno.

And he had the opportunity to learn more. They were trying it out. They’d agreed to that, and that was maybe the weirdest thing of all. Agreeing on something. 

They were quiet, now, having talked and shouted and laughed for hours. It was… almost awkward, but not quite. 

Hopeful, maybe. 

A cold breeze hushed the lights just slightly, and Quackity was drawn out of his thoughts. Right, it was late. The noise below was dying down, slowly but surely. He glanced at Techno, wondering if he was going to get up, leave, go off to wherever he stayed during the night.

He… didn’t want him to, honestly. This was nice, in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

Techno didn’t move.

Quackity hesitated, then stretched his wings back, enjoying the freedom of it, before slowly settling them across their shoulders to keep out the chill.

Techno froze for just a second before huffing out a breath. Quackity wasn’t looking at his face, but he could almost hear the smile as Techno resettled, just slightly closer. 

Quackity couldn’t have helped the bubble of nerves in his stomach if he’d tried. But it was a good sort of nerves. Soft and curious and hopeful - not scared and angry and clawed hands digging into his arms. 

Good nerves. 

There was still a lot of shit going on - L’manburg was still a problem,  _ Schlatt _ was still a problem, but at least now… 

Now he didn’t have to deal with it alone.

  
  



End file.
